"You have it yet?"
"I dare say I have it somewhere;"—no tremor now; she is very composed.
"That was a happy time;"—very great emphasis on the word happy.
"Very happy;"—no emphasis anywhere.
"I sometimes wish I might live it over again."
"Yes?"—inquiringly.
"There are, after all, no pleasures in the world like those."
"No?"—inquiringly again.
You thought you had learned to have language at command; you never thought, after so many years' schooling of the world, that your pliant tongue would play you truant. Yet now you are silent.
The moon steals silvery into the light flakes of cloud, and the air is soft as May. The cottage is in sight. Again you risk utterance:—